Star Trek: Season 7 - Masquerade

[wraith1701]

As he stood outside of the door to sickbay, K'Tan tried to quell his growing anxiety. He knew that the feeling was illogical; he had gone through numerous examinations throughout his starfleet career.  The procedures were always simple affairs; a few noninvasive scans followed by a pat on the back.  But try as he might, he couldn't escape the memory of his many visits to the doctor during his childhood on the Klingon world Askive.

Among the Klingon warrior class, the medical profession was often looked down on as being largely irrelevant; any Klingon who required the help of another to remain functional was looked down on as being weak or pathetic.  K'Tan knew that this was due in part to the hardiness of most Klingons.   Having a body with multiple redundancies built-in to most major systems made doctor's visits unnecessary for all but the most serious injuries.  And even then, the idea of using any type of painkiller was looked at as being dishonorable.

Unfortunately, K'Tan's human frame was somewhat more fragile than those of his Klingon peers; he therefore ended up seeking medical assistance for injuries his friends would have simply shrugged off.  Eventually, the young K'Tan had learned to avoid the doctor at all costs, or risk earning the ridicule and scorn of his peers. 

K'Tan thought back on the appendectomy that was performed on him during his early teens, and couldn't help but shudder.

With an effort of sheer will, K'Tan squashed his anxiety and strode into sickbay with a calm, confident gait.  He hoped that no one here would see past the facade.  As the door whispered closed behind him, K'Tan quickly scanned the room, looking for a familiar face. 

A year ago, he had had the chance to work with one of the Tiberius' medical officers, Dr.Ryla Drett.  As acting Chief Security Officer, K'Tan had tried to discover the origin of the virus that had ravaged the late Tiberius; Drett had provided valuable guidance and insight.  During their short collaboration, K'Tan had come to respect and admire the Trill doctor; her sharp mind and  congenial personality had put him at ease during a trying time.  Thinking back again on the last days of the Tiberius, K'Tan recalled the tenacity with which the Doctor had attacked the Lucas Virus.  In a way, the doctor is like a kindred spirit, he thought.  We are both charged with the well being of the ship and her crew.  Only where I use physical force to overcome an obstacle, she uses her intellect and medical knowledge.  K'Tan found himself hoping to cultivate a friendship with the Trill doctor. 

He was snapped out of his reverie by the energetic voice of one of the medical technicians.  "May I help you, sir?"

K'Tan snapped to attention, tugging at the hem of his uniform tunic in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner.  "Lt. Commander K'Tan, reporting as ordered for my physical examination."

[Jen]

Sevryll looked over Nathan's shoulder as he skimmed the files that were forwarded to his in Ready Room from the Starbase. "Well, we already know the planet is geologically unique, but what exactly does that mean? Let's see what we're up against, shall we?" asked the captain as he keyed a command and the computer. Instantly the monitor began to rotate charts and topographical maps relating to the planet Ter'Oss.  The world was vast and diverse, consisting of both temperate and frigid regions. A picture of an ice mountain dotted with cold hearty flora soon replaced an image of petrified forests, emerging from wind swept volcanic sand dunes.  The next revolution of images revealed emerald oceans, bays and harbors beset with an armada of sailing ships. These too were soon supplanted as more images moved into view on the monitor; pictures of people astride great beasts, crossing plains blanketed in red grasses rotated on the screen.

Each image that followed presented the natives of Ter'Oss in greater detail. The people of this world were called Ter'Osicks and they were as diverse as the environments they hailed from.  They were a graceful, beautiful people with long pointed ears that tipped back slightly. The Ter-Osicks resembled humans in every way, aside from this feature and their skin and hair color. The completions of the natives varied, depending on the region from which they came. Some were a turquoise hue,  some jade, some sapphire blue, and others were as dark as the blackest Onex. Their hair and eyes varied as well. A number of people had eyes of green, blue, lavender, gold and brown. Hair color often corresponded with that of the eyes, yet there were a small number whose hair and eyes did not match. These people were of the upper and royal classes, commonly referred to as the "Blate" and the "Brock".

Not unlike the Medieval monarchy of Europe; the Brock ruled their provinces, marrying only other Brock. The Blate were the lords of these regions carrying out the law, overseeing the armies and governing the cities.
Their culture was saturated with mysticism and magic.  Until a few months ago, their physicians had been the equivalent to witch doctors. Now they were budding medical doctors who had recently cured a blight that threatened the planet's population. Engineers, scientists, generals and philosophers had made similar advancements casting fuel on the suspicions of dubious Brocks who constantly sought any advantage against their enemies. These advancements fanned the flames of war and sparked inquisitions that would serve to eliminate potential threats to the security of sovereignties. The tensions seemed to accent the volatile nature of the planet—going hand in hand with the quakes that often shook the ground and brought castles down in heaps of smoking rubble.

"...Quaint," said Sevryll dryly, after Quinn turned from his computer to gain his first officer's assessment.

"Sarcasm is not a Vulcan strong suite," he replied with a grin.

She arched an eyebrow in response before adding, "there is much to prepare for. I will see to it that the department heads each have time to review this information. Perhaps we should meet after they've had a chance to study the files."

"Excellent," said Nathan as he walked Sevryll to the door. "Keep me apprised."

"Of course," replied the Vulcan as she proceeded to the turbolift. She turned before entering and asked in a quited tone, "any further word on Captain Bell's condition?"

[wraith1701]

joint post by Jen and wraith1701-



Ryla was reviewing Ensign Farmer's troubling medical logs when she noticed Lieutenant Commander K'Tan entering Sickbay. A medtech showed him to a biobed and the tactical officer cautiously positioned himself on the edge, and waited patiently for a physician to see him. The Trill picked up her medical tricorder and started towards K'Tan, but Doctor Peterson was quick on the draw and beat her to the punch. Drett slid the tricorder into her lab coat and continued toward the officers—if not to perform the exam, then just to say hello.

Her first day back in a starship infirmary had been a reunion of sorts. There were many officers stopping by for their physicals that she hadn't seen since quarantine, and the human raised on Qo'noS was one of them. She sided up to Doctor Peterson, glanced at his tricorder readout and then to K'Tan's apprehensive expression. "Hello, Lieutenant... I mean Lieutenant Commander," Ryla quickly amended as she noted the additional pip on his uniform. "Congratulations on your promotion."  Drett gave K'Tan a quick look up and down.  "I almost didn't recognize you," she said.  "What happened to your hair and beard?"

K'Tan smiled, and absently rubbed a hand over his head.  "After receiving my promotion, I decided that a more clean-cut appearance was in order."  K'Tan's hand strayed from his head to his chin.  "I've gotten used to the shorter hair; it cuts down considerably on prep time each morning.  I kind of miss my goatee, though," he added with a slight frown.  "Whenever I look into a mirror, I feel like a baby-faced stranger is looking back at me."

Drett chuckled.  "I think the new look suits you," she said.  "You look very professional."

K'Tan smiled.  "Thank you."  He looked the petite Trill over.  "You look well.  It seems as though this new posting agrees with you."  Smiling, Drett gestured at the bustling activity around them.  "I love it here," she said.  "Captain Quinn has assembled a topnotch crew, and the equipment is all state-of-the-art."

The two were interrupted by the gentle coughing of the CMO standing beside them.  Drett glanced briefly at Dr. Peterson, nodded her head, then turned back to K'Tan.  "I take it you are here for an appointment, eh?  We probably shouldn't keep the staff waiting; we have quite a few crewmembers to take care of over the next few shifts."  As she turned to return to her station, Drett added, "Don't worry, Commander; you are in good hands with Doctor Peterson."

"Of course, Doctor," K'Tan said.  "By the way," he continued.  "I've been meaning to become reacquainted with all of the old crew of the Tiberius.  I was wondering if you would be interested in catching up over a cup of Raktajino some time?"

Drett bit her lower lip and thought for a moment.  "Sure," she smiled.  "My schedule is kind of full right now with the upcoming mission, but I think I can make time for coffee.  Why don't you comm me after the end of Beta shift, and we can see where our schedules might sync-up."

"Certainly, Doctor," K'Tan replied.  "I'll call you later."

Grinning, K'Tan turned to the smiling Chief Medical Officer, who insistently tapped the waiting bio-bed.  "Don't worry, commander," Peterson said.  "This wont hurt a bit." 

As he lay back, K'Tan felt his grin melt away.




Later, after a relatively painless 20 minute examination, K'Tan stood up from the examination bed.  "You'll be happy to know that you check out just fine," Peterson said.  "There is evidence of an unusually high number of bone fractures, but all are completely healed."

The doctor quirked an eyebrow.  "Looks like you've had quite an active past."

K'Tan smiled noncommittally.  "I've been around."

As he strode out of sickbay, K'Tan gave his combadge a tap.  "K'Tan to Lt. Otak.  I need you to pull up the latest diagnostic report on our  pre-phaser power conditioners, as well as the specs for our fire control magnetic iris valves.  I'll also need the targeting sensor data from the Arabella's trial flight.  We need to establish a baseline before we commence our tests."

"Understood, Commander," Otak replied. "I've also taken the liberty to  gather data on our emitters' nadion particle production rate."

"Outstanding, Mr. Otak," K'Tan replied.  "I'll see you shortly."

[Omra]

Joint post Omra and Hawkeye Meds




As the time for the morning briefing neared the murmuring of the assembled crewmen died down to such low level that when the telltale chime rang out from D'Callan's computer display it could be clearly heard throughout the room. 

He collected his PADD and rose to address his entourage.  He was just about to begin when he noticed one of his brood was missing...  A quick visual scan told him which of his loyal staff was missing, he scowled.  It was not like her to miss a briefing, if anything she was always early.

"Computer where is officer Shyn?" he queried.  It dryly replied, "Officer Shyn is in her quarters."  The displeased expression he wore sparked nervous mummers from the assembled squad, a quick glare quieted them.  He pressed a button on his comm panel, and kept his voice as neutral as possible, "Officer Shyn, is there a temporal anomaly in your quarters?"

A nervous voice replied, "Uh no,... I mean NO SIR!"  After extinguishing the snickering coming from the testosterone laden crewmen with a glare he continued, "Then why are you not in my office for the morning briefing?"  After an awkward pause she replied, "There is something wrong with my replicator," after the sound of frustrated kicking she continued, "every time I try to replicate my uniform it comes out wrong."

The room erupted in laughter.  Which clearly traveled through the comm system, because Shyn's agonized groan could be heard through the speakers in response.  D'Callan merely looked at the squad with a disapproving tilt of his head, it was that was needed to quiet them back down. 

The Lieutenant addressed is absent team member, "Let me guess, you left your uniform chit out where someone could gain access to it..."  He could almost smell a burning clutch as Shyn's mind reeled at his suggestion; she stammered and then, "Well I guess, I... Oh TANJ!"  The sounds that followed would have terrified a normal man, they reminded Joseph of a trip hisfamily had taken to the Zoo, when they had viewed the wild jungle cats.

He warily eyed the nervous crewmen, many of them had already figured out what had happened.  And their eyes were on the dark skinned Elloran, who was nervously returning the accusing stares.  When she saw the Lieutenant looking right at her she visibly gulped.  After feeling she was properly mollified he spoke to his screen, "Shyn, stop redecorating and listen to me."  The primal sounds ceased, and her breathing slowed.

He spoke in a calming voice,"Take your uniform chit down to Logistics, they will wipe the chip and reprogram it for you."  His fingers were already clicking away at his keyboard, "I will authorize the reset, and call ahead to let them know your coming."

A sheepish voice answered, "Yes sir." 

His voice became stern, "And Shyn..."  While his gaze skewered the chagrined Elloran like a bug on a pin he addressed the angry Phen'rell over the comm system, "If you kill anyone I will be most... 'put out'."  His voice became icy, "Do I make my self clear?"

The long silence that followed made the room very nervous.  The Ellorans eyes were fixed on the ceilings speakers, nervously awaiting the Phen'rells answer.

The voice that finally answered was so tightly restrained as to be barely audible, "Yes sir,... I understand."  The assembled crewmen let out an audible exhale of relief.

Convinced there would be no bloodshed he responded, "Good, you will report directly to me ASAP; once you are properly attired."  "Yes sir!"  "And Shyn, you owe me a pint at the 'Afterburner'."  He killed the connection before she could respond.

He tossed his PADD to the squad leader, "Get this pack of animals out of here, now!" 

He pointed to the Elloran, "Except you." His eyes narrowed and Joseph walked over to his treasured cricket bat, he knew he wouldn't remove it from its fixture but he stroked the willow and looked back at the sheepish crewman, "you are mine!"

[Omra]

Joint post by Omra, Jen and Iceman


As Korridan entered the Sick Bay, he barely got out of the way of a burly tactical officer who seemed elated his exam was over and was eager to escape.  The muscular man turned his head and apologized in a deep resonating voice, "sorry."  Korridan smiled disarmingly to show no hard feelings, but before he could even respond the man of few words was already making a hasty exit in large measured strides.

Korridan turned his attention back to the Sick Bay.  A Trill with a pleasant expression on her face welcomed him.  Her demeanor caused most of his apprehension to dissipate, and he began to feel almost relaxed in her presence.  He jerked his thumb in the direction of the escapee, "That's not a good sign..."  She laughed.

As he walked deeper into the Medical Bay he saw Doctor Peterson's Wife fussing over the bruises the Doctor had received in the Holodeck.  Korridan's eyes widened, "Flaming PahWraiths, I thought you were all just eatting mutton and drinking mead served by saucy wenches in there..." 

The Doctor smirked, "Not quite,"  he pulled aside part of his uniform showing off some of his nastier bruises, "we ran into some not so 'merry men'."  Korridan winced in empathy for the Doctor, "ouch, nasty..."

The Doctor noticed his wife's arms were crossed over her chest and she wore a disapproving look on her face.  He asked her, "What?"  She pretended to be offended, "Saucy wenches huh?"  He looked to Korridan for support and then back to his wife, "He was kidding Hon..." 

Drett tapped Korridan on the shoulder and gestured that they should give them some personal space.  Korridan followed the petite Trill mumbling, "great,... now he's going to put leeches on me for revenge." 

Peterson looked back at his wife lifting his shirt, "Dear does this look like I was enjoying some mead and mutton" as he winced in Pain. Myella looked back at her husbands painful looking welts and bruises as she ran the medical Tricorder over his injuries. She giggled slightly as she shook her head, " I guess not, you have a few broken ribs and a fractured wrist. That must have been some Training session?".

Casey replied with " You can say that again, I suspect that some of my fellow crewmates will be walking in with similar injuries anytime now. Myella moved toward her husband and injected a hypo spray into his shoulder, his grimmace of pain was soon less apparent as the contents of the spray coursed through his body and the pain subsided.

Myella motioned for her husband to lay down on a biobed as she ran a dermal regenerator over his superficial bruises and welts then proceeded to take care of his fractured ribs and broken bones.

She watched as her husband slowly drifted off to sleep as his broken bones and fractured wrist were being fused back together. Myella bent over and gently kissed her husband on his forhead before ordering one of the nurses to let her know when her husbands bones were healed. Until then she decided to let him rest from what must have been one gruelling training session.

[Omra]

Joint Post Omra and Hawkeye Meds


Shyn was roused from her sleep by an incoming message.  It was from Lieutenant D'Callan, "You owe me an hour from yesterday, meet me on the Holodeck in 15 minutes."  She typed an acknowledgement and sent it, then hurried to get dressed.

Shyn typed in the access code that the Lieutenant had provided and entered the Holodeck.  But it was not Joseph D'Callan which awaited her inside, it was Petty Officer Drah'Vehn.  When the Elloran turned to face the person entering the Holodeck she was as surprised to see Shyn, as Shyn was surprised to see her.

Before either could say anything the image of Lt. D'Callan appeared in the room.  His holographic avatar addressed them, "I expect my people to work together as a cohesive unit, your life will often depend upon the person standing to your right or left."  "I will NOT tolerate ANY petty bickering or feuds between my brothers and sisters in arms, neither of you will be allowed to leave until I am convinced that you two can work together as a team."

A collection of archaic looking weapons materialized around them.  He gestured to them, "These are the types of weapons that will be available to you on the planet we are going to, familiarize yourselves with them..."  His image moved accross the room as D'Callans familiar cricket bat came into view, he put it towards the floor and began to tap it forward slighly as if concentrating on an on-coming ball. He looked up and back at the two crewmen his voice turning cold, "If the only way for you two to settle this is to beat each other sensless, then you might as well learn something while doing it..."  He vanished.

Shyn gave Drah'Vehn a fierce and feral smile, gleefully displaying her sharp teeth.  The darkskinned Elloran picked up a shield and mace, "It was just a Joke Shyn, I thought you would figure it out..."  She pivoted keeping the Phen'rell in front of her, her nervousness growing as the predators claws grew, "I never expected you to be late, or be embarrassed like that..." 

The familiar walls and floor vanished, and the two security officers found themselves in a medieval peasant village.  Shyn's bloodlust quickly dissipated to be replaced by suspicion.  As she scanned her new surroundings it became clear that their Superior was up to something, she picked up a quarterstaff and smiled at it.  It reminded her of her sparring sessions with Korridan, she sniffed the air and turned to Drah'Vehn, "We have company..."

[Jen]

"First Officer's Log, Stardate 60655.87. I have forwarded the documentation relevant to our mission, to each department head. I have scheduled a staff meeting for 0800 hours tomorrow morning, allowing ample time for data review as well as the formulation questions, opinions and strategy suggestions."

"Each of the department chiefs will be present at the meeting, as well as any officer believed capable of offering dynamic contributions to our discussion. Given the fact that Doctor Peterson will join the away team, I have extended an invitation to Doctor Drett, as she will perform the necessary surgical alterations."

Sevryll ended the recording, stood from her chair in the First Officer's Office, and walked to the replicator alcove to dispose of the empty teacup she had been restlessly rotating in her hands. Earlier in the day, she left her parents at Starbase 35 and discovered that Captain Bell was still alive. It was now afternoon on the second day of their voyage, and it felt as though they had been traveling for a month. It was time for a brief respite and for much needed meditation.

The Vulcan slung the black case that housed her violin over her sholder, and headed for what she calculated to be the most acoustically supreme site aboard the Arabella. She wound her way through the corridors for a entrance, and waited for the busy passage to clear before accessing the Jeffrey's tube and climbing to the target location at the heart of the ship. The Vulcan cleared the last rung and sat within the junction of 50a and 60a.  Placing the case at her side, she carefully released the catches and opened the lid to reveal the beautiful, lace wood violin resting inside. Sevrll grasped the neck and lifted the instrument from its green velvet bay, before reaching for the bow stowed in the lid of the case. Tucking the violin's rest between her neck and chin, she brought it perpendicular to her body and slowly pulled the bow over the strings.

In her skilled hands, the instrument created a harmonious resonance, which hummed pleasantly within the environment that moments before had been musically sterile. She closed her eyes before erupting into a furious performance, as the emotions that had welled within her surged through her delicate fingers. They danced as though charged with energy, over the fingerboard as she emptied herself of the harmful emotion that she could no longer suppress.  Music had become an outlet for purging the unwanted feelings, for the traditional Vulcan techniques had their limits now that the virus had damaged her ability to suppress them. 

The beauty of the composition that coursed through her, rivaled the masters.  If she were to perform in public, one might say that the power of her music correlated with the force of emotion that she poured into each note. Yet the Vulcan played for no one's enjoyment, not even her own....

[wraith1701]

Situated in the heart of deck 14, opposite the armory and phaser range, was the tactical department's main conference room.  Slightly larger than three officer-rated quarters laid end to end, the conference room was currently dimly lit, which had the unintended effect of softening its stark, utilitarian features.  On the wall at one end of the room was a large LCARS display, elevated slightly above eye level to allow easy viewing from all areas of the room.  Filling the center of the room were four rows of horizontally arranged tables, each with a complement of chairs facing the LCARS display at the front.  Each place setting was equipped with miniature data input and retrieval displays, which were linked with one another as well as to the main display mounted on the front wall.

The seats were now occupied by a select group of the Arabella's Tactical team.  This group of men, women, and others were charged with the protection of the ship and her crew.  Some served as security officers, maintaining order on the ship, and ensuring the safety of away-team members.  Others worked behind the scenes, ensuring that the ship's offensive and defensive systems operated at peak efficiency.

It was rumored by some that the tactical department was marked by a slight sense of paranoia-- the officers spent countless hours imagining dangerous scenarios, and planning out ways to deal with them.  But what some would call paranoia, the tactical crew called 'being prepared'.  This attitude could be best summed up by a simple saying: 'hope for the best, but prepare for the worst'.  The fiercely proud personell working in the department also had another saying; a motto that, while unofficial, was embraced as a truism:  The engineering and Opps personell were respectively charged with keeping the ship running, but it fell to Tactical to keep the ship alive.   

The officers gathered for this meeting were a specialized subset of the tactical department.  They were all well versed in the repair and maintenance of the phaser emitters that adorned the Arabella's hull. 

Lt. Commander K'Tan stood in front of his team, a display of his bullet-points scrolling down the monitor on the podium before him.  Behind him, the large, high-resolution LCARS monitor showed the Master Systems Display of the U.S.S. Arabella.  The side-profile view of the ship was rendered in glowing yellow outline against a flat-black background.  Each of the primary weapons systems of the ship were indicated by neon-blue highlights.  These were in turn connected by pale blue lines to their specifications, which were arrayed around the border of the display. 

Standing to the left of K'Tan was one of his most promising phaser specialists, Lt. Otak.  Otak observed the crowd quietly, silently rehearsing his part in the presentation.  The lieutenant was deathly afraid of speaking in front of groups, a fear K'Tan had suggested he defeat by facing it head-on.  Otak nonchalantly placed his hands behind his back to hide their slight trembling.

To K'Tan's right was the ship's chief of security, Lt. D'callan.  Although he stood silently at parade rest, D'callan emanated an almost tangible sense of power.  As the lieutenant's hawk-like gaze swept over the assembled crewmen, many of them flinched as though the gaze was a physical force.  D'callan was determined that the security personell gave their all to this test.  If the fertilizer ended up hitting the fan on the upcoming mission, the away teams could possibly find themselves depending on help from above.  The precision of the Arabella's phaser banks could conceivably end up being all that stood between life and death.

D'callan glanced down at his chronometer.  I'd better duck out and check on Drah'Vehn and Shyn, he thought.  Earlier, he had ordered the pair to take part in a team-building holodeck simulation.  While he felt confident that the two girls would quickly pick up on the lesson he was trying to teach, he felt a need to follow up on their progress. 

Gripping his trademark cricket bat, The security chief quietly slipped out of the briefing room.

k'Tan quietly cleared his throat, and the murmuring of the assembled crewmen abruptly ceased.  After pausing to ensure that all eyes were on him, K'Tan addressed his team, his voice booming out into the conference room. 

"Our upcoming mission will take us into areas of space previously unexplored by the Federation.  While we all hope that this will be a peacefull voyage, the possibility of hostile encounters is very real.  Because of this, it is of the utmost importance that our weapons systems be in peak condition.  Opps has given us a window in which to test our phasers. I intend that we use this time not to just test them, but to improve them.  As it stands, our weapons are more advanced than those used by the rest of the fleet.  I believe we can make them even better."

K'Tan paused, and scanned the room, meeting the eyes of each officer.

"As crewmembers of one of the most cutting-edge ships of the fleet, you stand as the embodiment of the best that the U.F.P. has to offer.  I have the utmost confidence that if there is any group capable of pushing the envelope and expanding our capabilities, it is you."

[Bryancd]

Ensign Dunn could feel the nervous anticipation build in the room as K'Tan addressed the senior security and tactical staff officers. D'Callan had dragged him along, saying it would be OK if he sat in on the briefing as long as he stayed towards the back of the room and kept his mouth shut. He was accomplishing both with great success. D'Callan had glanced over in his direction once already and Dunn couldn't tell if he was looking serious and concerned or was about to die of laughter at the site of the cowering Ensign  in the darkened corner.

Either way, he felt privileged to be here. He knew he was going on the away mission and knew that unlike the situation on the Tiberius where the danger unfolded aboard their home turf, this time they would be planetside in an alien environment dealing with a alien culture while trying to protect the Prime Directive. It was a challenge in the extreme and one he relished. Although he had never been very good at engineering issue's, the thought of trying to help upgrade their weaponry was exciting and he hoped to be able to make a contribution.

[Omra]

Deep within the metal bowels of the Arabella where a human would feel claustrophobic and cut off from all hope.  A crystalline spider enthusiastically busied herself with her engineering duties, the confines and strange architecture of this domain were not a hindrance to her.  She enjoyed the solitude these assignments gave her, her fine limbs reaching into areas no humanoid appendages could reach.

The fine cilia on her underbelly picked up a unexpected resonance.  She secured the relay she was working on and scurried along the trunkline following the sound.  She entered the hub and stopped in suprise.

It was music.  She laughed in suprise and sheer enjoyment.  Her mirthful tones sounding like wind chimes, she had not expected to be serenaded as she worked.  This ship was indeed full of suprises...  This one would be her personal secret, if she were to let this slip her benefactor may not return; and she would be deprived of more of these beautiful concerts.

She was unfamiliar with the instrument being used but whoever was wielding it was a true master, and it was played with much vigor and intensity.  She rested for awhile and allowed the music to wash over her, enjoying the way the soundwaves resonated with her glasslike carapace.  As enjoyable as the musical pieces were Hamalki's are workaholics, and she could not be truly happy unless she was multitasking.

K'il'tik sighed and looked to her log and sought out her next assignment, she hoped it would be somewhere that would allow her to continue to listen to the musical performance.

[Omra]

Joint Post Omra and Jen
---
Korridan tried his best to not look uneasy as the Trill prepped the biobed and did her best to reassure him that it would be painless and quick.

"OK, Chief," said Doctor Drett as she patted the mattress on the surface of the biobed. "Have a seat."

He watched her as she methodically moved around the bed in a graceful dance of medical efficiency, while continuing a dialogue of reassuring anecdotal stories meant to keep him distracted and calm.  "Do you know any good jokes?" she asked in a soft soprano. Usually the first to crack a joke Korridan shook his head anxiously as he sought to fight the panic rising within him.

"No?" she said in mock surprise.  "I know quite a few. Most of them are horrible, but I think I know one or two that are passably funny...well, they're funny to me at least," She chuckled. "OK, how about this one? How many Borg does it take to change a light-bulb?" The Bajoran stared at her blankly as she moved a tricorder over him. When he didn't answer she lifted her gaze from the device, and regarded his expression. Either he hadn't heard a single thing she had said or he was exceedingly uncomfortable. "All of them," she laughed as she delivered the punch line.

She was good, he had to give her that...  And easy on the eyes, though he tried not to think of that for fear it would register on a monitor and she might take offense.  And then she might hypospray him with something nasty....  Nah, she was way too nice to do that. The readings on the scanner caught her attention and she glanced back to the Bajoran, "Try to relax, Chief," she said as she offered him a dimpled smile. She closed the tricorder and picked up another implement.

He watched as she then approached with an apparatus, which was clearly used for neural scanning.  He began to panic, he wanted to keep Yuki a secret as long as possible until he knew who to trust, and he knew that the scanner would detect his neural net and cause a cascade of questions he did not wish to answer. 

"Oh..." she said as her forehead furrowed  slightly. "Don't worry,  this is an unobtrusive device designed to scan your brain.... It won't harm you, I promise." She gave him another smile and waited for his acknowledgment of her reassurance.

Korridan wrestled with what to tell her, he could feel Yuki's presence rising within him trying to calm him.   He was about to tell her of the surgery he had undergone on Vulcan, but realized it is pointless... the records of the operation are classified.  He wrestled with the idea of having Aeric explain to her about his situation, but realized the silliness of that idea.

The Trill hid her confusion well, but was understandably concerned by his eccentric behaviour.  Yuki finally forced herself into the forefront of his mind, "You have to trust someone eventually, it may as well start here."  Her imaginary form strode into his vision and stood beside the nymph like Doctor admiring her, "I trust her Father," she looked to him, "I think you should too." 

His eyes focused on the mental illusion she had created within his troubled mind, Ryla looked around trying to see what he was looking at.  Yuki's almond eyes bore into him, "If you lie to her in a futile effort to hide me from her, she will find out and it will destroy any hope you may have had in finding an ally in her," she turned her sculptured face back to look at the worried Trill, "You cannot build a relationship of trust on a foundation of lies."

She moved over to comfort him, she knelt and held his hand sending phantom sensations there.  "I know you wanted more time, to seek out those you felt you could trust."  "You feel backed into a corner, do what you always do,... improvise!"  Her smile lifted his spirit, and gave him hope.

The anxious Bajoran gestured for Drett to follow him into another room. "Where are you going Chief?" asked Ryla as she glanced about Sickbay looking for any help she could find to calm the nervous man. She followed him, into her office as Korridan searched about for an imaging system with a large memory buffer. Yuki sent out a signal and Korridan noticed the green light of a positive test.  He sat down at Ryla's computer terminal and then collapsed from the strain of the download.

As Doctor Drett rushed to examine Korridan's unconscious body a voice addressed her from behind, "Is he alright?"  Ryla nodded, and replied in a relieved voice, "Yes he seems exhausted is all..." She turned to look at the individual addressing her when she realized that the voice was not Myella's. Instead, it was an elegant Asian woman in a crisp civilian contractors uniform.  The woman bowed politely to the Trill, "Konnichi-wa Doctor Drett. It is an honor to finally meet you. I am Yuki Yamamoto."  She glanced past the surprised doctor to the unconscious form lying beside her on the floor, "Please forgive my suspicious Father, he is very... protective of me."

The Doctor's eyes moved from the stranger to Korridan back to the stranger, "Father?"

The woman smiled and gestured to the chair, "Perhaps you would like to sit first, it is a long story..."

[Omra]

Joint Post Omra and Hawkeye Meds
______________________________

Drah'Vehn's eyes darted among the quaint huts and foliage seeking out possible threats, "I don't get it Shyn, a training program?"  She looked to her team mate, "What is the point?"  she shook her head, "we aren't going down to the planet, we can't..." Shyn stole a glance at her, her face a question mark.  The Elloran explained, "They can't alter our appearance surgically," she spread her arms giving a 'see for yourself' gesture, "we aren't even allowed on any of the proposed extraction teams..."

A peasant woman stepped from her humble abode, when she saw the two strange looking women she screamed, "DEMONS!" dropping her crude tin implements and flatware she turned and ran.  The village stirred to life, people peeked from their doorways pointing at the invaders and calling for a gathering of arms. 

As the villagers gathered farming implements and carpentry tools and began surrounding them, the two former adversaries took up defensive postures. 

Once the Village Elder and the local Pastor arrived the villagers started putting on a show for them, their demeanor changing from scarred and nervous, to rowdy and ready to kill.  The pudgy and dirty woman who had run screaming was tugging at the servant of God's sleeve pointing to them, "See Father, Demons... I told you."  He patted her hand and nodded.  The Elder turned to him and asked, "What should we do with them Father Malakai?"    The Priest looked to the two security  personnel and struck a dramatic pose and perpared to deliver a rousing speech.

Shyn rolled her eyes and growled, "Oh for God's sake just ATTACK US ALREADY!"  The priest was taken back and stammered.  Drah'Vehn glared at Shyn, "Nice First Contact Furryball!"  Shyn returned the glare, "It's just a Hologram," she spat on the priest.  The villagers erupted in fury and attacked, giving the Phen'rell just what she desired.

The young feline countered the thrust pitchfork redirecting it away from her and throwing the attacker off balance, she pulled the foul smelling farmer towards her interupting two other attempted attacks.  She stuck her boot into his stomach and propelled him into the nearest attacker with a long reaching weapon.  She turned her attention to the shaking cobbler with a hatchet, her staff shot forward and struck full into his nose, the pain and blood taking him out of the fight. 

The sound of weapons pounding on Drah'vehn's shield was like hail on a metal roof.  Shyn hurled the now abandoned pitchfork into a tall blacksmith preparing to bring his hammer back down on the Ellorans shield.  The horrifying scream and the image attached to it drew the attention of the ill prepared villagers.  Shyn pulled Drah'Vehn to her feet and pushed her forward screaming, "Press the advantage!" 

The warriors flew into the would be vigilantes at a full run, taking the battle to them in close quarters.  Removing the advantage of the villagers longer reaching weapons.  Without a battleplan or any training the peasants ranks broke and they scattered.  Drah'Vehn gave into temptation and gave chase, taking advantage of the situation and incapacitating stragglers.

Shyn called after her, "This isn't a contest, get back here,"  Drah'Vehn looked back to her with reluctance in her eyes, Shyn pleaded, "We are stronger together, and we need to watch each others backs."  The Elloran nodded in response and then froze, she pointed past Shyn, "reinforcements," she waved for Shyn to join her.  Shyn climbed to the higher ground and looked to where Drah'Vehn was pointing. 

A small detachment of Castle guard were approaching, professional soldiers...  They ran to the stash of weapons D'Callan had provided and found more appropriate weapons against lightly armored foes.  They moved to the best defensible position they could find and prepared for the worst.

They stood back to back atop the small hill and watched the approaching soldiers, their former petty rivalry seemed so distant; and so silly now as they watched armored death making its measured and calculating approach.

They looked to each other for comfort and smirked with the typical gallows humor of a bloodletter facing death.  "Side by Side sister," Drah'Vehns dry throat rasped.  Shyn responded in kind, "Back to Back sister."

The slow march of approaching death stopped.

The arch appeared and in strode the Lietenant in a crisp uniform wearing a triumphant smile on his face.  His cricket bat firmly placed under an arm he energetically clapped his hands, "Well done." 

As the walls and floor of the Holodeck reappeared.  Realization dawned upon the two security officers, they smiled and bowed to the lieutenant basking in his applause.  He indulged them for awhile and then stopped, his mood turning more serious.

He eyed the two dirty and bloodied team mates, "Now do you realize what this was REALLY all about?"  Shyn answered first, "There is no room for rivalries or agendas on a team."  Drah'Vehn nodded, "You need to be able to trust the person watching your back." 

As he approached the two reflexively went to attention.  He eyed them suspiciously walking a tight circle around them, they stared at a point on the wall refusing to make eye contact.  His inspection ended in front of them, seemingly satisfied he addressed them, "If it were not for what the two of you had displayed," he gestured with the cricket bat to where the hill had once stood, "I would think you were simply telling me what I wished to hear." 

He cleared his throat, "But, as they say; 'the proof is in the pudding'..."  The two girls looked at one another not understanding the reference.  He walked to the doorway and gestured for them to leave, "Now go clean up, you smell like a Pakled's locker room."

Shyn shoot past him, but as Drah'Vehn approached the cricket bat blocked her exit like a railroad crossing gate.  She stared at it nervously as he spoke, "and you my Lady have earned the right to wear a REAL uniform, please do so..."  It rose allowing here to freely pass, she did so eagerly.

Shyn waited for her in the hallway, "What was that about?"  The Elloran turned, showing Shyn the back of her jacket.  On the back a big red and white target was emblazoned, just like the uniforms Shyns sabotaged replicator had been spitting out the day before.  Shyn laughed aloud.  The Elloran joined in as they went to their quarters to freshen up and change.

Joseph D'Callan watched them laugh and chatter as they departed.  The strict expression he had worn while addressing them dissolved into an expression of hopeful satisfaction, the two former combatants had now bonded together.  He brought his bat down into his open palm with a loud smack, "Mission accomplished."

His expression changed to one of pain,"ow..............................................."

[Ricardocameron]

=/\= 

Tossing down the PADD, Science officer Ensign Taryn Rayna tore his reddening eyes away from his family's image and heal-heartedly tried to rouse himself from his bunk.  He was late for reporting for his scheduled mandatory physical, and Commander Sevryll would not be pleased.  Besides,lateness just wasn't a character trait he wished to embody.  But this was a case of the "Mind is willing, but the flesh is weak" variety.  Half-Vulcan, he had been struggling with the human emotional side of his personality since leaving Starbase 35, and with it his family...refugees of vulcan, a world they would never call home.  He had left his father, sister and a Katra-carrying baby Sehlat in their care, to catch a ship heading to the Sol system, and on to Mars...home.  But no, that wasn't right.  "Home" was now the U.S.S. Arabella, and he had new horizons to explore.
He was sure that his skills in the Sciences, Laboratories and a growing knowledge Medicine could be put to good use on the currently assigned mission. He would just have to leave his past behind him, and forge ahead.  His family was strong and could take care of themselves.
He shrugged himself into his newly-designed Starfleet regulation duty uniform and headed to the Infirmary.  After clearing sickbay, he would delve into study of Earth's Medeival history, and then see how he could be of service to the Captain, the ship and her crew....
=/\=

[Jen]

A disembodied voice interrupted the private solo, permeating the bowls of the ship. The unexpected summons caused her eyes to open abruptly and her violin to make its first unpleasant sound, as the bow tersely scratched the strings in an awkward arrest. She gently laid the violin in her lap as the call was repeated, "Lieutenant Zremm to Commander Sevryll."

Somewhat disoriented and intoxicated by the frenzied emotional release, she replied with a slight slurring of words, "Yes, Lieutttenant."

"I hope I'm not interrupting. I know our department briefing isn't for another thirty minutes, but I thought you and I could touch base before hand."

The diligence that Sevryll admired in Ch'Fras Zremm, had been the primary reason she chose him as her Assistant Chief Science Officer. Though she was on break, the commander had no intention of discouraging his enthusiasm, "Of course Lieutttenant. I'm on my way... to the Science briefffing room now." Said the Vulcan as she placed the instrument in its case and pulled the strap onto her shoulder.

She paused midway up the ladder as her peripheral vision registered movement in the tube on her left. The Vulcan remained still on the rung a moment, as she listened intently. When no sound met her ears, she continued to advance to the access she originally entered.

The Science Briefing Room was very near the access. Sevryll opened the door cautiously, sneaking a peak to ensure that no one was near by, before quickly making her way to the small meeting room.  The door hissed open to reveal the tall Andorian science officer, waiting in a chair at the end of the long black table.

[iceman]

Dr. Peterson was woken gently by his wife who told him about the senior staff briefing, he quickly got up and went back to his quarters to read the material that The commander had put together for the department heads. He found the information fascinating, and believed it would be almost next to impossible for this society to advance so quickly without some type of outside help or influence.

Casey went back to sickbay to receive another anti-inflamitory shot for his shoulder so that he would not be in pain for the briefing then headed to the afterburner for something to eat before heading to the briefing.